VERSES OLD AND NEW.

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1563, 5 October 1912, Page 9

VERSES OLD AND NEW.

BEN JONSON'S few SONG AT THE MERMAID TAVERN.

"Marlowe is dead, and Greono is in his

grave, And sweet Will Shakespeare long ago is gone! ■■■':.. Our Ocean-shepherd sleeps, beneath the wave; Itebin is dead, and Marlowo in his gTave. .Why should 1 stay to chant an idlo stave, And in my Mermaid Tavern drink alone? . . v For Kit is dead, and Greene hi in his grave, And sweet Will Shakespeare long ago is gone..; ■'•.'■.."■ Where is the singer of the Paerio Queen? Where are tho lyric lips of Astrophel? Long, long ago, their quiot' graves wero green j '■ Ay, and tho gravo, too, of their Faerie ' Queen! , And yet their faces, hovering hero unseen, Call me to • tasto their new-found oenomel; To- sup with him who sang the Faerio Queen;.'. To drink.With him whoso name was .' . Astrophel. I drink to that great Inn beyond the gravo! . —If there bo none, the goods have done us wrong,— Ere long I hope to' chant a better stave • In some great Mermaid Inn beyond the . grave; And quaff tho best of earth that heaven can save, — Bed wine like blood, deep love of friend, -and song. t drink to that great Inn beyond tho grave; And hope to greet my golden lads ere long." —Alfred Noyes.. COWSLIPS. ; The children run and leap By a most heavenly hill. And I willgivo you the Keys of Heaven To. uso as you will.

Tho keys are small and sweet'; Gold keys from a girdlo swung; The cowslip opens the Gates of Heaven To the pure and the young.

The children are gold and white— 'Gold heads'the mothers hare'kissed; The children carry the Keys of Heaven Swung at the wrist.'

Children, why would yo go? Here is a heavenly land. : The children swinging the Keys of Heaven Slip from your hand. Is it not heaven enough Here for a little while? Tho children kissing the' Keys of Heaven Listen and smilo. The children are white as snow; They walk in gold to their knees. The children who hold tho Keys of Heaven Go where they please. _ '.-..■ —Katharine Tynan. '• '. ANDIULA VAGULA. Night stirs but wakens not, her breathings climb To one slow, sigh; tho strokes o! many 1 twelves ■ From unseen .spires mechanically chime, Mingling like echoes to frustrate them- . selves; My- soul, remember Time. Tho tones like smoko into the stillness , curl; ' The slippered hours their placid business ply, \, And in.thy hand thero lies occasion's pearl; But thou art playing with it absently And dreaming, liko a girl. —Archibald Young Campbell. , DAYS TOO SHORT. When primroses are out in Spring, And' small, blue violets coino between; When merry birds sing on boughs green, And rills, as soon as born, mast sing; When butterflies will side-leaps, As though escaped from Nature's han<l Ere perfect quite; and bee's will, stand TJnon their heads in fragrant deeps; When small clouds are so silvery, white Each seems a broken rimmed moon— When such, things are, this world too soon, For me, doth wear the veil of Night. -W. H. Davies.